A Game Of War
by xThat One Personx
Summary: Soldiers, not unlike Huntsman come in many shapes. Loved when they are needed, scorned when they are not. All fighting for a different reason: Love, duty, pride, revenge and even greed. Unified under one common goal, one ultimate cause. Victory at any price. A not so glorious story about those not particularly heroic. The story about the game of war and it rules.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Atlesian Paladin

 _If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath: a wolf. But what if you have the capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero's path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed._

/

The air was extra crispy on this chilling September night as it always was in Atlas. The kind of freezing that seeped into your bones making them sore to your deepest core, aching for the sweet embrace of a fires precious heat, unfortunately such commodities would only give off your position when you were outside the comforts of civilization, where you have not to fear the dangers lurking around every tree, every shadow, every smile. Yet this hardly seemed a good explanation for tonight's frigidness.

The law of the land had become nothing more then a distant memory to the privileged behind their great walls, only worried about whether or not they will arrive home in time to watch their favorite TV show air. Either by blissful ignorance or uncaring selfishness they give no thought to who they owe such blessed lifestyles to. When praise was given, rarely at that, it almost always found its way to the esteemed Hunters and Huntresses, the guardians of humanity and faunas alike. Rightfully earned on their part. Through their actions Remnant would see an unprecedented time of peace.

Peace however; may as well be simply a measurement of time. Defined only by the lasting of it's nature.

Sixty-five years ago, the world was ravaged with clashing ideologies, each refusing to back down, each believing their way was in the right. They called forth the leaders of the known world to hold great meetings to decide how the kingdoms should be run, every attempt at a lasting resolution that would be beneficial to every one under it's terms was struck down time and time again. In the end, humanity's need for war would surpass the basic welfare of the citizens; throwing Remnant into deep chaos, unrivaled even by the threat of Grimm. This event would be known as 'The Great War', A time that would live in infamy in the hearts and minds of all.

The end result was Remnant as it is today. One where every individual is free to be different, to strive to accomplish great things that will last long after their lifetimes.

This freedom, just as everything else in the world, comes at a cost. To keep something you cherish, you have to be prepared to fight for it, Defending what's yours against those who would wish to take it from you whilst ensuring the safety of your flock. This is the law of the land. None were exempt from this unspoken rule.

Besides the Grimm that is.

Grimm weren't creatures capable of love, want or needs. They were in a sense; pure evil. Their sole existence revolving around the killing of human/faunus beings and destroying everything they've ever built. The enemy of all, ally to none. Unless you were a hunter or at the very least possessed some form of military training you would undoubtedly be helpless before them. Running from them is futile for most as well, simply fleeing with fear would only attract any that were in the general vicinity due to the strong negative emotions, essentially you would be nothing more then a Grimm conduit. This is why hunters and huntresses in training are taught to control their emotions at a young age, less they just end up making a horrendous situation worse.

The Grimm of this snowy forest were no different, always skulking for prey who unknowingly wondered in their territory. Or in the case of a small Atlesian team, ordered to venture in."Sanderson, if we go in deeper we aren't going to be able to make it back!" Lance Corporal Wilks advised his section leader in a hushed tone "That's the sixth damn pack we've just narrowly evaded!" The helmet he was wearing masking the fear that was surely present on his face.

Eight soldiers formed a tight perimeter around Sanderson as he tried to read the map in his hand; something that was proving to be very difficult with the low light conditions they were in, pitch dark that is. The frighted young man in his ear wasn't helping the situation either. "I bet we could half that number if we left your ass back with the rest of the company" Replied a smart ass by the name of Reyes Hail, a grizzled veteran soldier who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He couldn't see it due to the darkness but he could feel the dirty look Sanderson was shooting his way. "What? We were all thinking it."

They were cold, restless and afraid. Three kilometers into the frosty, Grimm ridden forest and they hadn't come any closer to completing their objective. The green private, despite his inexperience, held truth to his words. If they were discovered this deep the ensuing firefight would drawl every red eyed creature bastard a mile around to their position. Defending themselves against that kind of number would be impossible, let alone escaping.

"Leave the kid alone, it ain't just him that wants to leave. Shit I haven't been able to stop shaking since we left the rest of our unit" Defended another soldier; bringing his shaking hand up to prove his point.

"You think I want to be here either?" Shot back Reyes "But it isn't going to make anything better by pussy footing around, man the fuck up and do your job."

The other man was quick to counter "Yeah and you being absolute dick is going get us out of here safe, right?"

Sanderson looked up from his map to take a good look at his section, a group of men he had only been given command of little over a month ago. In that time the worst that they had been through together was a mandatory physique inspection "Look, I know you all are scared. I want nothing more then to send you back to your wives, girlfriends...dominant hand" He spoke the last one while pointedly looking at Reyes. "We could turn back now and get back to base in time for hot coco, but that doesn't change the mission quota. If we don't do this, if we cant complete our mission then they are just going to send another team to get the job done. Most likely a much larger force, one that can't move as discreetly with it's numbers. We do this now and we save lives." It wasn't an awe inspiring speech that would go in the history books, however; Sanderson could feel the thick dark aura that had been present the entire time lose it's grip slightly on his men. "The Lieutenant wouldn't recklessly send us to our deaths, he knows what he's doing"

"And what if he doesn't?" Wilks Impatiently asked.

"Can I take a sick day?" Reyes deadpanned; cutting the boy off with fake enthusiasm, causing a few around to shake with silent laughter, even Sanderson couldn't help a wry grin. The man was an insufferable asshole but he had his good points.

The youths question ringed in his head, taking treacherous holds on his mind. What if the Lieutenant didn't know what he was sending his men into? It could be said that every man made mistakes at the most inconvenient of times. He himself would live or die by Kruger's orders but he couldn't ask such loyalty from the rest of his team. He shook his head to shake away such base thoughts, Kruger knew exactly what he was doing. "Alright, same plan. Stay quiet, stay close, move fast." He ordered as he stood up, tucking the map into his uniform "Let's move, Reyes take point"

At his order the crouching men filed behind the said point man in a tight column formation, leaving little room to fire their weapons yet reducing the possibility of being seen. The heavy chilly wind pushing against them as they moved did little to help visibility, which made looking for something you didn't know what actually was a lot harder.

All the men present were a little too old for hide and go seek but the version they found themselves forcibly participating in was a stark contrast to the common children's game. Their objective was simple in premises but complex in acting out. Over the last several days Grimm population in the local area had been reaching horrifying numbers, no attacks have been reported as of yet though it would only be a matter of time; forcing the hand of the local garrison's commander into action. A hastily and poorly planned decision was made to send out a single recon team. Without the proper support or intelligence the plan was completely compromised in its beginning stage.

They did not return.

This was not a rescue mission none the less. They were already believed to be dead at this time so their retrieval took a backseat to more pressing issues. More teams were quickly sent out to gather Intel before a larger force was sent in to clean up the problem. That is where Sanderson and his team find themselves at an impasse, the reason for the Grimm's raving behavior was a complete mystery to everyone but the Grimm themselves. Farther and farther they were forced to venture in, possibly damming themselves in the process.

Searching for a question mark does makes for very tedious reconnaissance, very tedious indeed thought Sanderson. Especially when visibility at times was actually determined, at times, by how far they could walk before running into a tree. In all his life living in the Atleasian norther lands; never before had he seen such a violent snow storm, it was as if the nature itself had read the mood and went on to set the stage for their arrival. Truth be told, It reeked of destiny. A foul and cruel word. His grip tightened on his rifle ever slightly as he continued to tromp through the snow, the action providing himself with a miniscule amount of comfort.

Everyone was quickly brought to a sudden stop as Reyes brought his hand up into a fist, signaling for everyone to stop. The section leader's heart sped up as he passed his now crouching men, his eyes scanning forward as he made it to stand at Reye's shoulder. He said nothing, only directed his commanding officer's attention to what looked like a black smudge in the distance north east of their position. It wasn't large enough to be noticeable by just the passing eye, and even when you knew where it was it still almost remained invisible. Had it not been for the small clearing around it they would of passed right by it without noticing.

Reaching into Reye's bag he produced a pair of night vision binoculars. Brought them up to his eyes to get a better look at it. It took a moment to find what he was looking for but when he found it he knew we were in the right place. Fucking destiny.

"Sir?" Asked Reyes as his section leader put the binoculars back into his bag.

"It's a cabin." He informed with an emotionless tone; slinging his rifle back into his hand. He motioned for the men to form a right echelon to prepare to hit clear the building from multiple positions.

"Think this is what we are looking for?" This was exactly what they were looking for.

Four men split right as they approached the cabin, circling the building for another entrance; shining light into the darkness inside. From where Sanderson was standing he peered through the dusty old window to look inside. Couldn't see much due to a chair blocking most of his view but it hardly looked ran down. Though they were obviously not new furnishings they were far from the trashed remnants of scraps of cloth and cushion one might expect from an 'abandoned' old cabin in the woods. To his immediate left he could hear the men stacking up on the front door. Reye's confirming everyone was ready before breaking off to kick in the door. His back straightened and his muscles visibly tightened as he brought his knee up as high as he could. His foot poised like a snake preparing to strike, aiming for the door's center of mass.

"It's unlocked..." Wilks trailed off as he tested the door handle, leaving his peer frozen mid kick. Danny, the soldier who defended the young man earlier let out small shaky breath, attempting to stop himself from laughing.

"..." Sanderson's second in command adopted what he could only describe as a grumpy cat face.

"Do you want me to ope-"

"Open the fucking door." The veteran cut him off, clearly pissed off at being made a fool of by the youngest teammate; moving back into position with the others. The Lance Corporal spared their team leader a glance of unease seeking direction. He simply nodded his head giving him the go ahead. On the other side he could hear another door being breached, apparently not unlocked as this one was. Taking that as a signal to get his ass in gear he threw open the door, entering swiftly followed by the others.

Sanderson too was about to about to follow, but couldn't help notice a familiar shape in the snow a few yards away from him. The falling snow almost erasing its existence completely. Putting the sound of his section behind him; choosing to investigate.

As he got closer it became apparent that the 'shape' was indeed plural. Almost a dozen of them, from what could be made out, two lined trails came from the opposite direction of where they just came. As a natural born Atleasen it didn't take long for the man to realize what exactly he was looking at and judging by the fact that they were still here and not erased by the falling snow these were recent, very recent. Stepping beside along them keeping his eyes forward and weapon at the ready, he followed them. Who the hell was out here on snowmobiles...?

"Sanderson!"

/

I blinked with a start, slightly breathing heavily from my dazed state. The not so gentle hum of Grimm Reckoning's new album blasted through the hull of the craft making it next to impossible to get even a second of shut eye which at this point were closing by themselves, giving no fucks to the current situation. I thought about asking them to turn it down but as the saying goes their house their rules, in a way they were sharing my misery anyway. I couldn't help but let out a sigh as I stared aimlessly at my feet. My watch read 2400 last I checked...hours ago, I feared to sneak a quick peak at my family heirloom in my pocket now; knowing that once we made it to our destination id probably only get to sleep an hour or two to sleep even if I forgo unpacking tonight.

At least the inside of transport was oh so nice with it's god like heaters, though the positioning and cushioning of the seats left much to be desired, makes sense as they were specifically designed to be difficult to sleep in. I couldn't complain much in this regard, in Atlas heat was more precious then the most valuable dust. Ironically enough most heating units were crafted by Schnee, the biggest dust mining and refining company in Remnant, as was most of everything else that was powered by dust. Monopolization at it's finest ladies and gentlemen.

I let out another yawn at the idle thought. I was tempted to use my heavy white winter jacket, which I took off earlier due to the heat, as a pillow and lay sideways across the seats. I feared though I might not wake up, leading to rather awkward happenings.

Without my jacket I was left with my collared white long sleeve uniform, with a black undershirt. On my legs I wore again you probably guessed it white pants made from a sturdy material, underneath those were some nice and snug thermals. My black steel toed combat boots were probably the only piece of my gear that broke the outer clothing color code beside the dull cherry stripes on my armor, which was in my duffel and was also white. The dark colored stripes signified my position as an engineer. It however didn't inform that I was not just some every day hce or technical engineer, I was among the most badass manual laborers in Remnant. A Combat Engineer.

And I'm really funny.

Speaking of techneers, Id actually been sleeping when my unit's technical engineer showed up from out of dust knows where, completely unprecedented, tells me to gear up, shoves not blueprints or drafts but a topographic map of some off the grid tower mast compound into my hands and a large orange envelope. Tells me I'm being temporarily reassigned and that there's transport waiting to take me to my assignment 'Don't disappoint us'.

Asshole, I knew what was going on. This was meant to be somebody else's job but who want's to go to some backwoods outpost near the faunus town of who gives a fuck when you could just have some other poor bloke do it for you. When you've only been out of sapper training a staggering eight months you realize fast that being the new guy immediately denominates you as the head of the bitch work division. I only wish the said position came with a raise.

A hand grasped my shoulder, gently but firmly shaking me. The sudden action caused me to jump, bringing me from my dazed state. The bug's eyes of the pilot's helmet probably weren't the best thing to wake a man with but it defiantly finished the job. "We're ten mikes out sleeping beauty, get your shit ready to disembark" Though the words sounded harsh it was clear that he was joking. 

"Thanks..." I acknowledged quietly. Grabbing my jacket from the chair next to me I leaned forward to slip over my arm and across the back, finishing the maneuver with my left arm. Out of the pocket I pulled out a plain white mask and slipped it over my head to keep my face warm.

The pilot turned right before he entered the cockpit "Don't sound so bummed out, one week and we'll be back to rescue you from the horrors of a backwash society. Hey, who knows you might even find yourself a little faunus girlfriend" he finished my mimicking a pair of ears on top of his head.

"Yeah maybe" I smiled back awkwardly, hidden by my mask. He gave me a mock salute before entering the cockpit, what a cool guy. With my mood lightened considerably I plucked my helmet from my duffel bag, spinning it around in my hand until it was facing me. The stripe down the middle noticeably fresh, the helmet itself not marred by any scratches or dents. Slowly I ran my fingers down the ridges to the open mouth piece, holding such a sophisticated piece of technology in my hand always made feel a little less useless compared to hunters and huntresses. In the end I was a soldier and no one could take that away from me. Twirling it around I placed it over my head, It was dark for a moment until the Atlas arms, a weapons company funded by the schnee. symbol popped up into my vision as it powered on. Not a second later the image changed to the steel hull of the transport, except much easier to see this time due to the helmets automatic low light conditions feature. At the bottom was located a compass, the top right a clock set to standard time. Five-ten...This is exactly why I didn't want to check my watch.

Fantastic, just fantastic.

"Five mikes out" The pilot yelled back "Also something to remember, faunus girls hate cologne. Their strong senses make it a hundred times as powerful, its like inhaling pure fire into their nostrils!" I'm really going to miss this guy. Grabbing the sling on my duffel that contained the rest of my gear I slung it over my shoulder and stood up, grabbing one of the many hooks with my free hand to keep me from falling over. With what free time I had left I pulled out the offending envelope along with my scroll from my left breast pocket, the top of the parchment sealed by a string.

Light shadowed across my face as I pulled the scroll apart; tucking the envelope under my arm to allow me to better operate the device. Figured I might as well message Sanderson, not sure if we will get the chance to talk for a while. Hopefully I wouldn't wake him, an aggravated Sanderson wasn't exactly my favorite flavor of the former soldier turned militia. It didn't take long to find the man in my contacts of five, one of which was my mother...I'm just Mr. Popular aren't I?

Sanderson, a man whom...I had been introduced to at Dad's funeral. A bit rough around the edges and a bit commanding as most non commissioned officers were, my mother and I had him to thank for making the transition from fatherless/spouseless a little easier by providing financial support until we got back on our feet. Never was really sure why he did, my first impression of the stony man didn't indicate him the type but we were thankful none the less. I fondly remember him accompanying me to the recruiting office to ensure the car salesman like recruiter didn't sell me any bullshit.

I brought the phone up close to my face preparing to send a video message, too lazy to type something up at the moment. "Hey Sanderson how ya doing? I haven't heard from you in a while, thought something might be wrong or more then likely you're just ignoring me per usual in attempt to force me to socialize" I trailed off opening the envelope, getting royalty tired of all of the secrecy. My multi tasking skills aren't the greatest so it wasn't a surprise when it slid out of my hands. I cursed as I moved to retrieve it.

"I'd like to point out that military folk aren't the most welcoming crowd, also it's becoming quite clear why we Atlasian's are the butt of so many stick up ass jokes...anyways nothing really new to report besides my re-assignment" Of which I was about to gain a little more insight. Inside was a large folded piece of waxy paper. "I got volunt-told that I was going to some shitty station that nobody wants to go to. Undoubtedly its going to have all sorts of colorful people, but hey I'm sure they'll be no match for my charming personality and my dashing good looks...you're probably not even watching anymore"

I realized as soon I unfolded it partway, because it would be to big for just one hand, that I was looking at a print copy of a map; a very old map. This was actually the first look I actually had of the damn thing since it along with the assignment were dropped on me unceremoniously. It looked like a battlefield sketch, with friendly's positions, possible enemy troop emplacements and supply lines. Probably from the faunus war if I had to bet on it. What really caught my eye was an area marked with a skull, accompanied my numerous circles. Landmines. Though puzzling one thing was clear.

Somebody really sucks at drawling, my professional advise would be to 'stick' to stick people...nobody heard that so I can still use it later. "Well if you're still here, I doubt ill be very available the next couple of weeks so it might be while before we talk again so please try not get yourself killed until then you grumpy bastard." I ended the call.

I felt the craft turn to the side, most likely meaning we had just passed landing zone and were coming back for our decent. This proved to be correct as the feeling of my stomach floating followed soon after.

Welcome to hillbilly hell Dakota.

/

 **AN: Hello, everyone. Apparently I'm not dead, Who would of thought? First I'd like to apologize but I'm not going to because I would be using the old cliché college excuse that no one really believes anymore. So yeah, Suck it blues.**

 **That's not to say I didn't try to write on ole Dog Days when I had the time, unfortunately I always just found myself staring at a blank screen for an hour before giving up. Let's be honest the story was a wreck. No character development/back story to speak of and never really had a formal plot. Given it was my first story and I'm pretty sure I was fifteen when I started it, glaring mistakes were bound to pop up. With that I've decided I could no longer work on it in it's present state, I apologize. But that brings me to the entire point of this AN, ladies and gentlemen, masochist and sadist...I bring you the first chapter of Dog Days remastered.**

 **Also, Sanderson respectively belongs to the biggest sadist on FF, CC-2224 Commander Cody. Go check out his story...like now...why are you still reading this?**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Vytalion Headhunter

/

The the season cast an orange haze above the horizon, lighting up the sky as if lit by fire, yet the haze was so crisp and clear.

The sun was almost as orange as the sky, like a ghost almost. Yet even from behind the trees, it seemed to stare at the ground; a silent ball of wonderment that was really a raging ball of Hellish fury. The very thing that gave warmth, life, light and happiness to so many could just as easily cause utter destruction.

The sun, like a large, grandeur orange fireball in the distance was partially cloaked by the hanging clouds, which were all splashed with the random colors of hot pinks, reds and even hints of purples and blues. The sun was so large that you could almost touch it. It seemed to look on with a dull glare at the proceedings beneath it, knowing that it's beauty and the planet's dependence on it for survival made up for it.

The vintage steering wheel felt good in my grip, always reliable and classy to boot. A piece from a different time, one of the first Schneemobiles to ever roll off the assembly line, back when their products put quality over anything else. Now it was nothing but mass produced mainstream junk, made by the hands of an unskilled faunus labor force. That's not racism against the faunus on my part, its just how things were. Why pay a human worker with a degree when you can hire a faunus to do the work for an eighth of the price? The craftsmanship was bound to plummet.

Getting one in my hands hadn't been easy, despite even the fortune they cost finding an original was next to impossible. So how did I acquire such a marvel of past ingenuity? Luck honestly. And a large network of spies that probably could have seen better use elsewhere. My predecessor's folly for entrusting so much power onto a young shiny new officer.

That was before I learned how to play the game as the Keeper calls it. Back when I didn't understand the real workings of Remnant and the true powers behind the governments. Gender, Rank, Occupation, grades, it didn't much matter. There were people that were born into this world that mattered and those that didn't. Men such as Vespin didn't see this, they couldn't see, couldn't believe what they deemed to be illogical. On one hand I could count the men and woman that ran this world, people who could bring kingdom's to their knees with a single word, so powerful they are that we are helpless to do anything but to dance to the tune they set.

Fortunately these individuals could be described as our protectors, not destroyers.

An ultra modern mansion came into view as I went over the final hill leading to Vespin's extravagant home. A former high ranking military officer, and one of my many employers. It was a nice place, I will admit. If not maybe too flashy and a bit too large for only one person. His wife had left him many years before for due to his controlling personality, his seven daughters were 'aloof' you could say and didn't live with their father. Besides them calling for money no one ever contacted the man, truthfully he was alone in this world. Maybe likely that's why he's so power hungry, he wants to be noticed, depended on even.

The structure was three stories tall, surrounded on all sides by a checkered pattern lawn with a garden that would make an old woman cry, if not the gardener who gets payed to maintain it. That paycheck is rightfully earned to be sure. In front a menacing arched gate blocked off entrance to the estate, if the sight failed to ward off any trespassers then the armed contractors with assault rifles would probably do the job. Four of them dressed in civilian clothes manned the only way in and out, most likely possessing some kind of military background or combat school training.

One of Vespin's ways of keeping the government out of his business; extremely illegal as well. The use of or acting as a payed mercenary was banned in every Kingdom but Vacuo, where it was necessary, it was the Council's way of trying to stop less then noble huntsman from extorting off the grid villages. It still happened anyway. If caught one could find themselves quite the fine, repeated offenders sentenced to prison time.

One of the contractors waved me down, wearing jeans with a collared white short sleeve shirt and a pair of casual shoes that made him look more like a college kid then a killer for hire. The Lamppost illuminated his shadow across the entrance as he made his way to the driver's side. "Pretty late for a house call ain't it Jacky" He asked with a wide grin, his goons proceeding to shine flashlights is the backseats for anything suspicious. "Boss man isn't really in the best mood either."

"Open the gates" I said without missing a beat, this wasn't my first dealing with the insufferable guard.

"Ever the conservationist, I'm starting to think you don't like me." My reply was silence. He rolled his eyes in a manner that said he was use to this kinda of treatment; taking a moment to spare a glance at his comrades for them to give him the all clear. "North gate to nest, shadow man is entering the premises. Alright Jacky, you're clear to go inside. Don't say I didn't warn you." The gates opened ever slowly whining as they did so. College boy gave me a thumbs up and a smile before waving me off.

I spotted two unmarked vehicles soon after pulling into the driveway, Vespin's contractors mingled with unknowns outside their vehicles, one such gray haired boy looked to be chatting them up like they were old friends. Our guest had arrived early it would seem. That's fortunate, I didn't wish to be here longer then absolutely necessary. I'm a busy man after all. Re-positioning the mirror to get a better look at my appearance I judged myself to be satisfactory for what the business that was about to be conducted inside, with that I pushed the door open and made my way inside. Which just happened to be even more luxurious then the outside and more heavily guarded. In every corner, doorway, stairway was an armed contractor with a twitchy trigger finger. They escorted me through the brazen mansion to Vespin's office/study. The smell of alcohol heavy before I even opened the door. The meeting with the council must of went either really good or really bad.

"Damnit! That smug bastard, who the hell does he think he is! Peace can't be maintained with weapons? He runs a fucking school that teaches children how to kill each other for god's sake!" Vespin could be heard venting as the door was opened. Inside the man of the hour could be seen sitting very comfortably in his leather seat with a glass of what looked like scotch in one hand an almost empty bottle in the other. As boisterous as always I'm afraid, he certainly was easy to read. "The look on his face though when the Council unbanned the use of mercenaries, priceless!" He continued to banter, still unaware of my presence and from what I gathered more then just little drunk. Wearing his pure white dress uniform accompanied with a saber attached to his belt, he was surely dressed to pleased. My eyes wandered to the chairs in front of him until they were locked with a pair of bright amber, seemingly holding a hungry fire inside them. I felt myself rooted in place by the predatory gaze but not subjugated to it, I could feel them trying to assess me on the spot, deciding if I would be useful to them or not. After what felt like eons they blinked; their smirking owner turning back around to Vespin. "Jac- Maverick! There you are my old friend! Come on sit down, you're late for our celebration!" Announced the drunk man, finally taking notice to my entrance.

"I assume then everything went according to the plan then?" I smiled effortlessly.

"Better then planned actually, you're looking at Vytal's first council approved PMC. Thirty damn years I've given up for this kingdom and for what? The lowly rank of commander? I'd say it's about time somebody pays up." His arrogance coveting the entire room like a heavy blanket. The man had not a shred of guilt for what he had done. What I had helped him do "EVERYBODY PAYS, as my father use to say" Quoted the newly appointed mercenary commander; slamming his fist into the desk to emphasize every syllable.

"Everybody pays" I laughed.

We continued like that for quite some time, like he had just told the funniest joke known to Remnant. Suddenly he quit laughing; face scrunched up in confusion as if he was trying to remember something. Then all at once like a light bulb lit up inside his head he gestured to the silent and forgotten occupant of the room. Forgotten by him anyways "Where are my manners! Jac- I mean Maverick I'd like you to meet the ever beautiful Cinder Fall, who has humbly graced us undeserving lowly men folk with her presence!"

"You're too much, Commander" Cinder purred, or growled? I wasn't sure. Honestly I hadn't even noticed she was a woman, her presence so captivating and commanding of your attention everything else was meaningless. This woman, Cinder, was undeniably powerful. Not at all what I was expecting when we arranged this meeting weeks ago. "Maverick" She ordered? Pulling me from my thoughts "I've heard so much about you"

"OH how I very much doubt that my dear" Vespin resumed his laughing fits, looking pretty sluggish.

If she could hear him she didn't acknowledge it, instead our eyes locked in another battle of wills. She was trying to figure me out again, to see what made me tick. "A hunter of a different breed, a soldier to the core." her gaze borrowed into me "You and yours may be exactly what I need"

"I am what I am" I clarified in friendly sing song voice, hiding my shock easily. Someone had done their homework. Finally taking a seat to her right I turned towards her with my feet propped up on the desk, Vespin to drunk to notice "It would seem that I am at a disadvantage, I don't know anything about you"

Looking at the woman in close detail she looked like a goddess ripped out of a book of fairytails. Her long dark black haired curled in an almost beckoning way, framing a face to beautiful too fit her malicious soul. The red dress she wore hugging all the right curves and revealing all those it didn't. However I could tell immediately that it was all just a ploy, Cinder was a woman to use every fiber of an advantage she had under her disposable. Her body was just another weapon to be used.

"Intentionally done on my part. I feel I must apologize for all of the hard work you had to endure looking for my trail." Very smug. Prideful. "Don't be coy though, you've uncovered more then most or I wouldn't be sitting here would I?"

"It's the curse of the working man I'm afraid, nothing you can do really. But no I suppose you wouldn't. My apologies that we couldn't meet under better company" I spared a glance at the drunk man peering out the window, like some comic book hero. "He never could handle his alcohol, honestly" I sighed.

Cinder smiled one of her special smiles and reached to grab a bottle and a glass "It wasn't all his fault, I guess he couldn't stand to be beaten by a woman. Men and their foolish pride, it'll be death of all of you."

"Truer words have never been spoken" I agreed; taking the offered glass of hard liqueur, not a single stray floating ice cube among the golden colored substance. I downed without a moment of hesitation, showing no change in expression. "The fact you spiked our drinks probably didn't help either."

The offhand statement struck her like an open palm; she fixed me with an amused curious stare "You knew?"

"Believe it or not this isn't the first time a beautiful woman has put something in my drink, frankly its not the second either, or the third. Actually I'm pretty sure I know the flavor, if previous experience proves correct id say I've got about ten minutes before I black out." I answered while setting the time on my watch "Ten minutes to prove my worth"

"Begin" Smirked the enigmatic woman.

Rolling up the sleeves on my brown jacket I began "There's thirty men guarding this estate in total, a quarter of that number is inside the building here with us and the others on the perimeter fence. These men aren't fresh faced kids, they're veterans, former tier one soldiers from the kingdom's militaries: the most elite of Vespin's mercs. From I could tell by your entourage only two of them are worth anything, the rest are undisciplined rabble. Faunus by the looks of their features, White Fang perhaps. They won't last long."

"And why do you think that information is of any importance to me?" She asked, sipping on her own drink. I could see her giving me a seductive smile over the lip of the glass.

"You're kidnapping us." Well technically I was a willing compatriot "If you don't deem us worthy 'allies' you can't let us go with what we know" Ahem, with what I know.

I stood up from my sitting position, making sure to push the chair back flush against the desk. Against the wall opposite of side I was previously sitting at was a large masterfully painted portrait of Vespin and his former wife. They looked happy. Must be an old painting.

"Our best bet is to eliminate the forces inside and use it as a strong point to even out the odds. With your numbers we can properly hold this building, the men outside will be restricted to small arms due to the risk of Vespin getting caught in the crossfire." With great care taken not to damage the portrait I removed it from it's place on the wall. With the absence of the picture a small safe was revealed. One, eight, seven, zero, nine, four; My fingers imputed with deft precision. The hatch lock released with a slick metallic sound. "Our biggest threat is Vespin's pet showing up. Though at the moment he is of no consequence"

A caustic laugh caught my attention as I pocket documents into my jacket. The sound of a chair being slid across hardwood followed. I briefly locked eyes with the woman now standing to my side before I resumed my previous pursuit. A flashy chrome plated handgun was the next item to be retrieved, the overzealous nine millimeter not exactly my cup of tea. The weapon only having two spare mags wasn't the most ideal for the situation either but it would have to work for now. I closed the safe, leaving the thousands of lien inside. "Headhunter One Actual" Appraised Cinder in a low voice.

"Pleasure" I greeted; pushing Vespin's rolling chair towards the door, the man in question no longer in the physical world. The long sheath to his saber screeching across the floor as I pushed him

"Headhunter One Actual" She repeated, bringing my gaze to her amused one. "Stands before me in pizza delivery uniform"

"Papa Ackbars Pizza: If it ain't fresh, it ain't Ackbars" Guaranteed "Now, about your proposition"


End file.
